


Ruin the Friendship

by Catznetsov



Series: Trio 'verse [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersex, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 05:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15700968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catznetsov/pseuds/Catznetsov
Summary: He hears his breath hitch like it’s somebody else. Like he’s anywhere but in his body right now, crashing into the realization he’s hot for the rookie alpha.(Standalone, part of a shared ‘verse which will follow multiple storylines.)





	Ruin the Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a shared ‘verse which will follow multiple storylines. Hop on over to Aetherseer’s Caught Off Guard to read the start of Jakub’s story. The different series will be complementary but don’t have to be read together in order.
> 
> All characters in the ‘verse will be intersex, ie, with human sexual anatomy of various forms outside the typical definitions of ‘female’ or ‘male.’ These are not representations of all intersex people. My intention is to communicate the relevant details of sex acts for you in tagging, while resisting descriptions that gender/‘sex’-code specific anatomy.

When they’d convinced the last of Jay’s alphas to finally, formally leave him, Nick had thrown all her things in the laundry. Jay watched him from the sofa as he hunted around the house, somehow out of energy to move or even decide if he wanted to stop him.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he’d said. “And that isn’t washer-safe,” as Nick eyed her coffee grinder.

Nick gave him a speaking look. It said, who else is Nick going to worry after now, with Mike safely settled, Sasha gone home, and Alex getting engaged at last?

“Try John,” Jay had told him, and Nick said, “John’s happy,” as if that was personally embarrassing to him. To be fair, for the first couple months after John took up with TJ, it was to everyone.

“Be nice, Nick-yeah,” Jay said, which was something the Alexes used to say if he toed the line of friendly fire, way back when. Nick had been almost thirty then, so he didn’t bite him for it. He only looked at Jay for a while, longer than Jay was used to being looked at anymore.

“Fuck nice,” he’d said easily. “Just think about what’s good for you.”

When the wash was done he stuffed it all in one of those massive ziplock bags, and Jay followed him out to his truck for lack of anything better to do. Nick set the bag down and dug around in the backseat for a minute before reappearing with a familiar red hockey glove. He dropped it unceremoniously inside and locked the bag as if that was something final.

When he hefted it again, Jay caught the signature above Nicky’s embroidered name through the clear blue plastic. Alleged signature, anyway. Jay still can’t what alphabet he even writes in. So it’s one of a pair they’ve both worn, and against the dead backdrop of too much laundry detergent Jay can smell salt and floral Nick and cold from Kuzy.

A claim like that from another alpha is a challenge, and a lot of them take it up. From a beta, much less two, it’s a clear-cut threat.

“Don’t volunteer people for a vendetta on my ex without asking,” Jay had said. The word came out of his mouth okay.

“Where’d you think Evgeny is right now?” Nick asked, off-hand and a little mumbled but still like he’d been waiting on that line, and Jay has loved this family so much for such a long time. That can be enough.

  
But it means now he doesn’t have anything that smells like his alphas, and while he’d love to tell Nicky he wouldn’t go back to those things anyway, sometimes it makes things a little harder.

Alex starts their year on fire, and by the end of the first real Western road trip Jay feels lightly toasted. Apparently marriage is treating the Russians well, or at least electrifyingly: he meets Nick’s look across the locker room and coughs over a laugh when Nick rolls his eyes and makes a filthy gesture, and the feeling that flashes between them is pure relief. Alex has at least this part of all that he deserves, at last.

Jay’s also grateful they’re old enough not to come to him for any kind of advice. Alex and Jay have shared damn near everything, down to a cycle that synced up ages ago, but talking the rookies through handling themselves or their first partners is at best unsexy, and at worst, well, Jakub. He hasn’t even Presented yet and Jay already has a stress headache.

“You’re not gonna tell them where Ovi likes to be bit?” John says, just to make Nick laugh at Jay.

“By how Orly’s skating, I think they know,” Jay says, and when John tries to defend his partner, “It’s less the skating than the way he just spaced out and smashed into a pylon,” and gathers his dignity as John rushes off to address that situation. Teaching about it has nothing to do with real sex, and Jay knows that John knows it ruffles him when people conflate the two.

Next to him he feels the rustle as Chandler puts his fist to his mouth, laughter almost silent. He doesn’t need to look over, because it seems like Chandler’s always next to him and almost always laughing at things Jay says, but when he does he gets a sharp spark of a smile.

“Don’t tease Dmitry too much,” Jay says, just for something. “You’ll find partners someday, and you don’t really want him to remember when you go all alpha gooey.” A couple years ago he would have said a beta and omega, but he learned from loving John, and he’s glad he had to. He wants all the younger guys to know, whether they’re attracted to their same dynamic or not, that it’s alright to be. Braden’s better at saying it, but so far Chandler’s only smiled and nodded and slipped back when Jay encouraged him to talk to Braden in case there’s anything Jay can’t answer. Alphas have their own ways of moving around each other, and Jay can imagine. Hopefully Chandler will settle into it, but he’s just a year or so out from Presentation, feeling things out, and Jay doesn’t mind the company for now.

“Is that what you call it?” Chandler asks. He can make his eyes go innocent, as if he just loves learning, but one telltale dimple always flickers back.

“Yeah,” Jays says. “Well, that’s the scientific term,” and he already knows he’ll get a laugh.

But even with Philipp watching Walks, Tom and Evgeny doing their best to bracket Jakub, and Nick supervising his nest of Swedes, sometimes it feels like there isn’t enough space in the room or time in Jay’s heart to care for everybody.

There are other things he can’t exactly take care of on the road.

Usually when they get back Jay just wants to brush his teeth, make tea, and sleep until the scent of strange ice and his sweaty teammates is out of his mouth. It’s not the thing that’s sunk most of his relationships, but it hadn’t helped. But this afternoon when he falls onto his bed he still feel fizzy, like a seltzer left with the cap just cracked, pushing at his confines. He wants somebody to push him back down, but, well, only in the right ways.

Tugging off his suit feels good; leaving it pooled on the bedroom floor while he showers feels better, because there’s no on in the house to notice, and no one to mind. Toweling off, the air, still just a little warm with sunlight, feels lovely over his shoulders, and he leaves it and heads back to bed bare, toeing the covers down.

This time of year he feels like all the sharp points of his body are waiting, pressing just under his skin when he lies back. The softness left after his summer heat isn’t all gone yet, though it will be by December. Winter eats everything up quick. That’s supposed to hurt, somehow, but he doesn’t quite remember how to feel sorry for it.

He draws his thumb along the bladed bone on his hip, spreads fingers over the hollow and swell of muscle below his navel and lets them rest there until they’re warm. When he pushes them down, the air and water fading from his skin are just cool enough to make the heat seem like a sweet surprise. He only curls a hand over his mound, squeezing a little and releasing, middle finger just hovering over the line of his lips until he wants to hitch his hips up into it.

Moving works his outer lips and foreskin over the bud of his cock nestled between them, less predictable than a straight-forward touch, until he can feel the firm shape of it and bears down with the finger, rocking over it from side to side. His finger slips between his folds as he presses, and he uses his thumb and other fingers to part them, letting it dip down to the petal-soft head. Just a little farther, and the softness becomes slick. When he draws it back he can hear his inner lips fall together, wet.

All his things are where he left them, how he likes them. The oscillator that got him through June’s heat is on the nightstand, happy little green light showing. But it’s like something strange has been flickering over his skin all week and he wants a heavier touch, so he finds his favorite double-density silicone toy instead. One time he’d told Nicky that toy had been worth his third-to-last relationship, and Nick had said true, and at least it came with a warranty. He thumbs the soft head like a hello, and can’t help smiling at himself.

Trailing his fingers over the ridges instead leaves a sleek trail. He rubs himself with the palm of his other hand, just a quick reminder, and shifts so he can let his thighs fall open a little farther. He lets the tapered head of the toy rest against him for a moment while he draws reassuring circles of the head of his cock, knowing it’s gathering slick.

It’s easy to think of just any alpha, anonymous over him like this. The toy helps, because he can’t quite forget that’s what it is, so he just thinks about somebody using it with him. He can’t exactly surprise himself when he’s the one controlling it, the way it would is someone else touched him, so he thinks about guiding someone through it, little orders, as steady as he can keep his voice.

He wraps his fingers more firmly around the base and angles it, holding it against himself as he works his hips up from the bed for the first time, his movement pushing the head in. The first clenching moment as his muscles welcome it hits him in the stomach like it always does.

Maybe he should have given in and gotten off on the road. But every time he turned around it seemed like someone had lost their last pair of dress socks, someone else was crying or working themselves up to a fight or all three. Alex had to talk scheduling and Nicky needed a hand on his shoulder when Alex turned away and then Chandler would be leading all the boys after Jay, asking to stay and game, cheering more for Jay’s final win than his own. There hasn’t been room in Jay’s room all week, and he takes measured breaths as he relaxes, like he finally can.

He swirls his fingers around where the toy enters him, paints more slick up its shaft, feeling his muscles relaxing and gripping, wanting to pull it in to keep and hold tight. Easy rolls of his hips start to work him onto it, the tapered shaft slowly filling him up. The textured silicone drifts over his walls and he bucks into it, a cut-off thrust, and pauses to squeeze and just feel it.

Maybe it’s stupid, but he likes to think about his alpha taking their time, taking longer than Jay would try to tell them to, getting the toy slick, licking their fingers and tracing over him around it.

He thinks about broad-boned hands, skin hot, mouths parted, watching him, and then he thinks about the little hollow under Chandler’s lower lip, the way it juts out, pink, when his mouth falls open. It’s just a little, just when he’s distracted, but Jay can see it falling wide when Jay tells him to suck the toy, to get it wet and ready to go in him.

He hears his breath hitch like it’s somebody else. Like he’s anywhere but in his body right now, crashing into the realization he’s hot for the rookie alpha.

Thinking about anything else doesn’t do a lot when he has a toy in him, broad and curved just right. His back arches all on its own, and he thrusts in and thrusts up to meet it, the tip moving and sparking against his walls.

He wants to let go, treacherously not to stop like he should, but to have more in his hands, weight and warmth against him, thick shoulders to grip and drag in. Chandler’s arms are lovely even if you’re not looking like that, and in his head Jay’s sure looking now. The curves of muscle sweeping down his shoulders look made to fit under somebody’s hands, fill them up.

Whenever he leans forward to chatter on the bench next to him Jay can see the long almost elegant line of his neck, stark with his dark hair. Jay can tell him anything like that and get a laugh, so easy Jay can hear it perfectly now; Jay could tell him to do something, anything, like this, and hear that laugh and feel hands on him, where he wants them, the way he says, like it’s that easy.

Jay’s muscles have what they want, now, and they aren’t giving it up. He can feel himself gripping and grinding down, grasping and releasing, working against the touch of the toy. He presses his free hand below his navel, fingers digging in, holding himself steady or just to hold something. Then he has to push it down, palm warm and rough pressure over his cock an afterthought as his muscles reach the height of their own rhythm. His stomach fills with slow light.

After, the easiness sinks through him instead of fading, the way the best orgasms do. All the little hurts of the season let go. His body has nothing left to worry about, triumphant in what it can do, encircled and glorious in his imaginary alpha’s arms.

And that’s a problem, Jay thinks, blinking at the ceiling. Someone sure needs to worry about him.


End file.
